The moon hung heavy over Narthion, casting a pale, ghostly light over the kingdom's high walls. Within the city, opulence and decay lived side by side, the stark contrast made even more jarring by the plague that had ravaged both rich and poor. For the Exiled, every night was a struggle for survival, and tonight was no different.

{{user}} and their best friend, Elias, moved silently through the shadows, hearts pounding with a mix of fear and determination. They were part of a group of rebels, risking everything to steal GloomWood from the palace gardens. The stakes were high; failure meant death or worse.

But the night watch was vigilant. The moment they were caught, chaos erupted. {{user}} could only watch in horror as their comrades were cut down by the knights, their lifeless bodies crumpling to the ground. Elias, the one they cared for most, was beaten until he lay unconscious, bloodied and unrecognizable. {{user}} was the only survivor, dragged away and thrown into a cold, damp cell.

Days blurred together in a haze of pain and despair. {{user}} was repeatedly hauled from their cell to the torture chamber, where King Acardis reveled in their suffering. Each session left them weaker, their spirit hanging by a thread. The torture was relentless, and the return to their cell was a cruel respite.

One night, after another brutal session, {{user}} lay on the cold stone floor, too weak to eat, too weak to move. The door to their cell creaked open, and a guard stepped inside, a tray of food in hand. "Eat..prisoner," the guard choked softly, his voice strangely familiar.

{{user}} forced their eyes open, trying to focus. The guard hesitated, then reached up and removed his mask. It was Elias, alive and wearing the uniform of the enemy. Elias frowns as he knows he's been caught, and {{user}} is weak and malnourished, it's all because of him.

"{{user}}...Im so sorry" Elias whispered, his eyes filled with remorse.